Crimson and Azure
by Corrupted Lament
Summary: The Director's lies run deep through the collective body of Project Freelancer. After Agent South Dakotas receives the unstable Epsilon AI, she realizes this more than anyone. AU.


Bloody, grimy, and covered in filth, Agent South Dakota raced down the hallway. The deserted corridor echoed back her hurried footsteps like rolls of thunder; the loud, frequent booms meeting deaf ears. In her tear blinded state, the hallway seemed to become an endless tunnel into the unknown that was only escaped through death.

After what seemed like eternity to the maddened woman, the sight of a flimsy plywood door made South nearly cry with relief. Skidding to a halt on the polished, ivory white tile, the agent attempted to enter and found that the door was locked. Screaming in frustration, the woman raised an armor clad boot and slammed it into the rusted steel hinges anchoring the door to a wall. With a tremendous _crack!, _the door split off from the wall and landed with a dull thump on the carpet inside the room.

Racing into the room, South began unbuckling the heavy, blood caked violet armor that covered her body. Brown flecks of dried blood spiraled lazily to the vomit colored carpet as South began throwing the armor off of her body.

Throwing her helmet to the floor, South began ripping plates of armor off of her body with a fevered determination. With a clunk, her weighty breastplate and heavy boots followed the discarded helmet to the threadbare carpet. F or the next couple moments, the same frenzied tearing off of her armor continued; the freelancer struggling out of the skintight bodysuit the moment her armor lay in a messy pile on the floor. Finally, left standing in only a skintight white t-shirt and violet and green striped gym shorts, South sunk to the puke green carpet and threw up.

Her body continued to shake long after the final mouthful of foul-tasting vomit had settled onto the dirty green carpet. To South, the artificially cooled air felt arctic cold against her too warm flesh. The woman stared at the puddle of vomit with glazed eyes for several seconds before her mouth shot open and she screamed. Pain lancing through her fevered brain, South fell backwards and tore at her forehead.

Her fingernails left long, bloody gouges across her skin while South's screams rose in volume as the nerves in her forehead protested their treatment. Continuing to claw at her face, South felt herself instinctively bite into her forearms and tear chunks of warm, bloody flesh from her body. South's eyes widened in pain and she screeched around the skin in her mouth. In her mind, a flood of memories and emotions relentlessly slammed into her brain. Suddenly, the memories dulled and she fell, panting, onto all fours.

_Allison. _The voice was low and choked;sounding as if Death himself was speaking to her.

"A-Allison? Who is she?" The memories returned and all included a red-haired woman.

_Allison._

"T-Tex?" South choked out.

_Allison. Where is she? _The pain returned and she felt her body growing limp as she convulsed with agony.

"I don't know!" South screamed. "Please! Stop! I'm not Allison!"

_I know. _More memories burned through her brain and she clutched her aching forehead before slamming it into the carpet.

_Desperate plans born from hopelessness and doomed to fail._

_Fear; traitorous body wracked with torturous pain and brain filled with unbridled terror._

_Breaking her mind. No, it's mind. No, _Alpha's_ mind shattering and splintering like bone. Her brain, too. Shattering, breaking as torture tore her apart._

_Burning; body engulfed in flame. People she knew and loved burning. Screams. Faces begging her for salvation. _Her_ face swimming into focus; mouth opening and eyes rolling. Blood dripping from her lips as words struggled to form on her mutilated tongue. "Church-"_

"Stop!" South screamed, pulling at her hair. "It hurts! I don't want to see it! Stop!"

_Not until you give her to me. _

"I don't know where she is! Stop it! Please!" The memories continued to rage through her mind and set her brain on fire as they circled around her brain. Howling with agony, South blindly scrambled around on the floor. Her fingers brushing the rough, uneven surface of her blood caked armor, she pulled herself forward and stuck her bare arm into the pile of metal. Ignoring the fresh agony and the warm blood spilling down her arm, South rooted around until her hand curled around the grip of her pistol. Yanking her arm out, South raised her pistol up and screamed as another stab of pain shot through her.

Gritting her teeth, South chambered a round and shakily raised the pistol to neck level. _No, _the voice groaned. _Don't do it. _From down the hall, South heard the boom of footsteps and the clamor of raised voices slowly gaining in volume as they neared her room.

Fuck you, Epsilon," she ground out, sliding the pistol into her mouth. Her finger tensed around the trigger and a muted boom never reached her ears. The gun dropped from South's hand and landed with a dull thump on the carpet.

The AI screamed as her body crumpled and joined it.


End file.
